


a hard night's sleep

by tomhollandeu



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, High School, Peter Parker is clueless, Precious Peter Parker, Sharing a Bed, Sweet Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomhollandeu/pseuds/tomhollandeu
Summary: lately, peter parker can’t sleep because all he thinks about is you. when you have to crash at his place for a night and share a bed with him, it doesn’t make his sleeping dilemma any better.based on the prompt: "There’s only one blanket.” (from/for onlytomholland and peekaboo-parker‘s writing challenge on tumblr) combined with the prompt: You’re staying over, take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch, yes i am yes i am yes i am yes i am no you’re not yes i am FINE WE’LL BOTH TAKE THE BED, happy!!?? (from happylilprompts on tumblr)





	a hard night's sleep

Peter Parker used to sleep easily. School, saving the city, and extracurriculars always tired him out at the end of each day. Every night, his bed would welcome him with open arms and he’d fall face flat into his pillow, waking up energized once again in the morning.

But when the teacher assigned you to be his chemistry lab partner, his nights started to grow longer.

Then when you started to hang out with him, Ned, and Michelle outside of class, the nights became endless.

After his nightly escapades, he’d stare at his bedroom ceiling, ruffling his dark chestnut hair and wonder why it was so hard to sleep nowadays. He’d recount the occurrences throughout his day, but his thoughts always circled back to you, thinking what it’d be like to lace his fingers with yours. Walk arm-in-arm with you down Midtown High’s halls. Nudge his nose into your shoulder. Kiss your soft cheeks.

And, as always, he’d smack himself with his pillow.

Peter still couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t sleep at night like he used to.

* * *

“Hey, Peter?”

In the iconic red and blue get-up, swinging from building to building on his way back home, Peter picked up your call via Karen, his trusty AI built within his suit.

“Hey, what’s up?” he panted.  

“You sound out of breath. Am I calling at a bad time?”

“No!” Peter practically screamed into his mask. “No, I was just running—that’s all.”

“Oh, okay. So, my parents are out of town for tonight and with all the recent break-ins in my building, I was wondering if I can stay with you for the night? Since you’re the closest one to me?” You asked Peter while curling your hair around your finger. “I mean, I’d ask Michelle, but she lives across town.”

Astounded, Peter fell mid-air, forgetting to shoot his webs keep him afloat. A moment later, he realized what was happening.

“Fuck!” He gasped, followed by a sharp thwip sound echoing through your end. Peter sighed in relief.

“Are you okay?! Did I say something wrong?”

“No!” The hero squeaked, shaking his head at himself. “No, I just hit myself on something. I’d love it—I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you came over.”

After he landed on top of a building, Peter rubbed his hand against the back of his neck.

“May isn’t home tonight, so I’m not sure if that makes you uncomfortable or not. I mean, not that I want to make you uncomfortable; I want to make sure you’re comfortable! I’m just saying that she isn’t home.” His hand moved from his neck to the front of his forehead, slapping it in the process.

Your bubbly laughter filled Peter’s ears. “That’s fine with me. You know I’m always comfortable with you, Peter.” His cheeks burned against the fabric of his mask. “I’ll be over in 15 minutes. Is that okay?”

New York’s friendly neighborhood hero noticed the sun setting in front of him, causing him to stop in his tracks. His head whipped around, realizing he had been going the opposite direction from home the entire time since you called.

“Make it 30? If that’s okay?”

“Sounds good! Thanks for letting me stay with you. I’ll see you in a bit.”

After you hung up, Peter huffed as he headed in the right direction.

“God, you’re so stupid, Peter,” he uttered to himself.

“I thought that went well,” Karen suddenly chimed in.

Peter thanked Karen and swung across the city, wasting no time to get back home.

* * *

A knock fell upon Peter’s apartment door and you waited patiently. You glanced down at the time on your phone and came ten minutes later than expected, knowing your friend had a habit of being late. Several loud, rummaging sounds later, a disheveled Peter putting on a loose grey sweater greeted you.

“Hey,” he beamed with a side smile.

Noting his chest heaving more than usual, you asked, “Just got home from your run?”

With widened eyes, he replied, “Uh… yeah!” He leaned against the frame of the front door with crossed arms before running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I just got home. You look nice.”

Glancing down at yourself, you didn’t think you looked any different than your usual self in your jeans, t-shirt, and with your backpack on. Nevertheless, his words made you smile like no tomorrow. “Thanks, Peter,” you said while biting your lip.

Staring into each other’s eyes, it took a moment for Peter to remember why you were there in the first place. He shook his head from his daze and welcomed you to come in.

You stepped into Peter’s apartment and kicked off your shoes. Looking around, you still mentally photographed images of his place because you’ve only been to Peter’s place a few times before.  

“Thanks again for letting me stay over.” You adjusted your backpack, releasing one of the straps off your shoulder. “So, where will I be sleeping?”

Quickly responding, Peter offered you his bed, while he insisted to stay on the living room couch. Shaking your head fervently, you exclaimed, “No, I can take the couch!”

“No, seriously. I can take the couch.” With his thumbs in his front jean pockets, Peter rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “My bed’s way comfier.”

“Well, that’s more of a reason for me to take the couch than you, Peter,” you commented as you made your way towards the couch, but in a blink of an eye, he stood in between you and the couch.

“No, you’re my guest—let me take the couch!”

You pouted and argued, “I’ll take the couch!”

Peter turned you around by your shoulders, having your back face him, and began to push you towards his room; your socks slid against the floor effortlessly. You tried your best to fight against the force, leaning back to create more difficulty, but your best friend was a lot stronger than he looked. “No!”

“Yes!” You retorted, still trying to stop Peter from pushing you towards his room.  

“No!”

Grunting and not wanting to give up the fight, you crossed your arms and stomped on the floor. Peter stopped pushing you and gave in.  

“Fine, we can share the bed!” One second later, Peter registered what he said. He immediately followed-up, “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. I can also sleep on the floor if anything.”

Content with the outcome, you willingly made your way to his bedroom with him following behind. “No one’s sleeping on the floor, tonight, Peter.”  

Kneeling down beside your backpack, you began to unpack some of your items. “And, like I said before, I’m always comfortable with you. As long as you’re okay with sharing the bed, then I’m okay too.”

When you looked up at Peter behind you, he was like a deer in the headlights. Nodding in agreement, he watched you get up and make your way to the bathroom with your toiletries in hand. Once you were out of sight, he leaned the back of his head against his bedroom wall and exhaled, frustrated that his heart palpitated harder than when he was normally with you.    

* * *

After ordering pizza for dinner and getting ready for bed, the two of you stood in front of Peter’s full-sized bed. He mentally thanked himself that he disposed his twin-sized bed three months ago.

“Sorry,” he mentioned while watching you get into the bed, positioning yourself on the inside of the bed next to the wall. **“There’s only one blanket.”**

You shrugged nonchalantly, sitting up on the bed as you adjusted the blanket and pillow for yourself. “Guess we’ll have to share,” you faced the boy twiddling his fingers. Half-jokingly, you added, “Don’t hog it, please. I get cold in my sleep.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Peter lowly whispered to himself before turning off the light’s wall switch.

Carefully getting into bed, the boy kept himself near the edge of his bed. Both of you said your good nights to each other. After a few minutes, he glanced over to you huddled, leaning on side, and facing the wall. He turned his focus back to the ceiling like he normally did at night, except this time, he was stiff as a log. He already had a hard time sleeping nowadays; you being in the bed tonight did not help his problem at all.

Moments later, he figured you were already asleep when he heard your heart slowing down and some faint snoring. For the next few hours, Peter continued to stay wide awake. He kept on glancing at his phone’s clock every now and then, closing his eyes, and tried his best to lull himself to sleep. Despite the fact there weren’t any emergency alerts from his phone, he still considered going out to doing his nightly rounds around the city to tire himself out. But if you were to wake up in the middle of the night, he didn’t want to leave his favorite girl alone.  

1:48am glowed against Peter’s face before the hairs on his forearm stood up, feeling something was wrong. Your heart rate was suddenly spiking and he heard you mumbling in your sleep.

“Peter,” you groaned with closed eyes, prior to turning around to face the anxious boy. You began to shiver and frown intensely—something Peter’s never seen from you before.

“I like you. Why won’t you like me back?”  

He froze. Peter figured you were dreaming, but did he hear you correctly? On top of that, were you speaking words of truth, or simply saying things from a dream state?

Unsure of what to do, the concerned boy placed a hand on your shoulder and rubbed it tenderly. All of a sudden, you burst into tears, still not awake, and Peter immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling your body into his. He began to soothe you and pet your head in the crook of his chest, telling you that it was going to be okay. Eventually, you woke up and realized you were crying in Peter’s arms.

“Hey,” he called out your name in a hush tone, looking down at you in his arms. “You all right?”

Still shaking, you managed to answer, “I-I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

You looked into Peter’s eyes, recalling what occurred in your dream, yet unaware you were talking in your sleep and that Peter had heard your confession. In your dream, you confessed to Peter. Unfortunately, the Peter in your dream ignored you and didn’t reply. You knew it was only a dream, but you believed it was a sign that maybe you should finally confess to Peter what you’ve been feeling all this time.   

“Peter?” You whispered against his face, your minty breath the equivalent of a gust of wind. He was trying his best to focus on you. However, it didn’t help that all he could think about was how your hair smelled fruity and sweet, like strawberries and peaches. God, he could drown in your scent forever.

“Yeah?” The tips of your noses touched. You placed a hand on his beating chest, then soon grabbed a handful of his grey sweater. Eagerly, you pulled your crush into you, and gently pressed your lips against his.

His heart burst at the seams, the fire in his heart flaring and oozing in each movement of the kiss. All the times he wondered what it’d be like to kiss you were hitting him at 130 miles an hour and he didn’t want to stop this beautiful incident. Peter’s hands were still on your shoulders, holding onto you safely, feeling all the excitement overflowing in your veins too.  

The question on your mind had to be asked, so you forced yourself to pull away and blurted:

“Do you like me?”

At first, Peter didn’t respond, still in shock over everything that was happening, so you continued, “As more than a friend?”

He continued to stare blankly at you, but then gasped when the lightbulb moment happened—you were the reason he couldn’t sleep at night.

Although Peter was aware that he liked you, he never realized it was why he couldn’t sleep at night.

“Of course,” he nodded excitedly with a shy laugh. “Do you like me?”

You nodded in response and had to pinch yourself to make sure that this wasn’t still a dream. Both of you smiled brightly in the darkness of Peter’s bedroom; you pulled him in again for another kiss. This time, the cognizant boy gained the courage to cup your face with his palms; the gentle pressure of the kiss juxtaposed his affectionate grip on you, not wanting to let you go.     

Many kisses and little conversations followed and you two eventually passed out right before sunrise.

Albeit short, Peter hadn’t had such a good, peaceful sleep in a while.

In retrospect, he never minded staying up all those nights. Nights filled with you made him feel alive, maybe even more than saving the city.

And he looked forward to more nights with you, even if he lacked all the sleep and energy in the world.   


End file.
